


Headache

by sjaakiih



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-19
Updated: 2020-12-19
Packaged: 2021-03-10 17:14:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28180746
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sjaakiih/pseuds/sjaakiih
Summary: You’re living in the same flat as Sherlock and John. While you and John were quick to become friends, it took a while for Sherlock to get used to you. But now you were spending more time in Sherlock and John their apartment than in your own. While it was rare for you to get a proper headache, it wasn’t unfamiliar for you or the boys when one resurfaced. They usually let you be, knowing that rest, medication and sleep would usually take care of the problem. But what happens when you accidentally take one of Sherlock’s pills?
Relationships: John Watson & Reader, Mycroft Holmes/Reader, Sherlock Holmes & Reader
Kudos: 37





	Headache

The moment you had awoken this morning, you could tell that it was going to be a long day. There was a silent nagging in your head, indicating that at the end of the day you were going to be having a full blown headache. You had taken an aspirin, hoping that it would work and you would dodge a bullet. But you knew almost for certain that you’d be in bed by eight. Fortunately you didn’t have to work till really late, and there were plenty of coworkers. If you had to go out early, you were able to. Which already had eased your mind as you left for work. Upstairs you had heard some movements, nothing too bad. Living in the same building as Sherlock and John, sometimes could be rather stressful. 

The first time there was police all around definitely had you worried. Or the shooting. The sudden loud bangs had disrupted you more than you’d like. One time you were sipping tea and it had ended all over the floor, all because Sherlock was bored. You had given him a piece of your mind, scolding him for a good five minutes before he interrupted you with another gunshot. Mrs. Hudson was going to be furious. And then there was his brother. The first time you had met him, you were on your way back home. A black car had stopped next to you and a man had invited you in. Obviously you had refused, clutching your keys and mobile phone as you continued to walk. It wasn’t until the man stepped out of the car that you stopped as well, glancing at him instead of running away. In all honesty you had no clue why you didn’t just bolt then and there. 

Mycroft had stared at you for a couple of seconds, without your knowledge he had deduced you. And then he started walking. When you had heard him talk about Sherlock, he had your attention and you cautiously followed him. After all, he was going into the same direction as you needed to go. Mycroft introduced himself as Sherlock’s brother. Even offered you money in order to keep him up to date with whatever Sherlock was doing. But you were way too uncomfortable to accept money, so instead you offered to keep your eyes on his little brother and let him know when something seemed concerning to you. 

It had rarely happened for you to text Mycroft. There was one time. You knew how dangerous Sherlock could become to himself whenever he got bored. Being his destructive self. There were times where even John couldn’t take it and would leave, just to have some peace. At times like that you’d make sure to come by more than you’d usually do. Finding him drugged out of his mind, definitely had shaken you up. Mycroft was quick to explain his little brother’s habit. He was the first you had called when you had stepped into Sherlock’s apartement. To your surprise it took him less than a few seconds to answer, and less than a few minutes to arrive. Taking in the havoc his brother had caused. 

After that incident you had done your own research. Just to look out for any sign of relapse. You couldn’t understand what was going on in Sherlock’s mind. He had baffled you multiple times with his deductions, his brilliant mind must have his burdens. Who were you to judge. 

And John. John was a sweetheart. Moving towards London, Baker street, you immediately felt at home after meeting John. He had helped you settle, get used to Sherlock and the two of you had become great friends. After a sucky date you could count on John sulking with you on the couch. You loved to bake, so whenever you did, you’d bring some to John. Sherlock was never too interested in food anyways. John at least knew how to appreciate your skills. But most importantly, you knew you could count on John. To have your back, to support you and be there whenever you needed him. If it hadn’t been for John, you didn't know if you’d be as good friends with Sherlock as you were right now. 

Either way, living at Bakerstreet was extremely exhausting, but it had been the best move you had made. Sure, you’d never know when Sherlock would stand in front of your door because he needed a fresh set of eyes on the case. Or you knew for certain that you had absolutely no privacy with Mycroft. But all in their own way you knew for certain that they cared. 

The place you worked at was close. On a proper sunny day you would walk, on other days you’d take the underground and it would take about 15 minutes for you to arrive. And while it wasn’t particularly sunny today, you still had decided to walk. Some fresh air would probably do you good. And while work was slow, you still had felt your headache grow stronger within the hour. Around 4 you had asked to go home and while the fresh air did feel nice, you couldn’t wait to get home and lay in bed. 

You always made sure to have aspirin or ibuprofen in your house. Just for situations like these. But upon arriving home you realized that everything was gone. It had been months since you needed some, apparently you had taken the last bit of it and forgot to replace it. Fortunately for you, John was a doctor and you were certain you could find some upstairs. 

The boys didn't answer the door, so when you moved your way into their house with your spare key, you wasted no time to head for the kitchen. Somewhere in one of those drawers you were going to find a painkiller. And whether it was because you were in pain and you weren’t thinking clearly, or you were too naive, the moment you found something that resembled an aspirin, you took it with some water. You figured it wouldn’t take long to kick in, considering you hadn’t eaten much today. The headache had prevented you from eating more than a banana today. Your coworkers could clearly see you weren’t functioning today so they had tried to leave you alone for as much as they could. The voice of Sherlock startled you. How long had you been standing in the kitchen. Long enough for Sherlock to come up the stairs. That sneaky bastard always scared you when you weren’t paying attention. 

And while you were staring at him, you couldn’t quite clearly focus on what he was exactly saying. Sherlock took in your appearance. The pale color, confused look on your face and the way your shoulders were slightly slumped, indicated that you were feeling ill. Sherlock had seen it before and he knew exactly what was troubling you. The glass of water that was still in your hands indicated that you were here on the hunt for painkillers, and you had successfully found some. “(Y/N)?” he repeated again, trying to catch your attention as he made his way to you. There was something off. Something he couldn’t quite catch yet, but his brain was trying to figure out what it was. 

The mention of your name caused you to turn your head a little. Suddenly very aware of your own movements. It felt like your body vibrating. When you glanced at the clock you noticed the time: 5.25 PM. Apparently you had zoned out after taking the medicine. How could you just forget an hour of standing around. It wasn’t until Sherlock touched your shoulder that you glanced up at him again. The headache was still present, and along with your rapid heartbeat and racing thoughts, it felt as if things were flying right past you. 

Sherlock guided you to the couch. Sitting you down. He had his phone in his hand and when you blinked it was gone. Everything was moving fast. Or your brain was just really slow. You weren’t sure whether you had answered Sherlock yet. But by the way he was studying you, you were certain that you hadn't. He looked very concerned. He was very concerned. “Sherlock”, you whispered, eyes squinting as you moved your hand to push against your forehead. Not that it was much of a relief. “John’s on his way”, he informed while he handed you another glass of water. He helped you bring it to your lips. The widened pupils, rapid pulse, the drawer you had left open for him. It had taken him only a few minutes to find out what had happened to you. And while he didn’t fear much for his own health when he took drugs, he had never intended on you finding it and accidentally taking it. 

Sherlock had spoken about his drug use a couple of times. You had questions, just pure out of curiosity and Sherlock didn’t mind answering them. You had wondered what kind of affect it had on his body, how he felt, why he did it. Indicating that you hadn’t been in contact with drugs yourself. Sherlock felt guilty. And while he would deny anything if Mycroft would be in the same room, he knew he couldn’t lie to himself. This was his doing. The pale colour had worried him already this morning as he had watched you walk out of the building, right now it was burning a pit in his stomach. If he had waited for you to return, he could have helped you. Given you the right medication. His pained reaction was something you did notice. It felt as if the gears in your head were suddenly working overtime. As if they were faster to pin point certain things. Your own heart was bursting, seeing Sherlock as worried as he was about you. “Sher..”, you mumbled again, catching his attention. 

The need to hug him was strong. And without thinking you wrapped both your arms around of him. The glass of water disregarding on the floor, a wet patch and scattered glass around the two of you. The noise didn’t startle you, Sherlock however hadn’t calculated your sudden outburst of affection. It shouldn’t have startled him. XTC was known for its effects. He was lucky he hadn’t found you later, god knows what the drug would have you doing if he wasn’t around. And while he would sometimes catch his mind wander when it came to you, he wouldn’t want you to be embarrassed because he would catch you in a compromising situation. “Sherr”, you purred this time, slightly squeezing him in the hug you were giving him. He slowly returned the hug, glancing at the dooropening as he heard footsteps coming up the stairs. You on the other hand didn’t notice anything, but the warmth radiating from Sherlock. His scent. His scent was intoxicating. Smoke, wood and something you couldn’t place. Not that your mind gave you any chance to think of it. Your hands were rubbing slow circled on his back. His muscles were tense. And while you had wondered many times what Sherlock would look like without his clothes, you hadn’t expected his slim built to contain such strong muscles. 

Your nose was pressed against his neck. The headache was long forgotten. Sherlock shifted, not sure what to do. The attention you were giving him wasn't unwelcome. Under any other circumstances he would have welcomed it. But now was not the time to spill those beans. Your lips on his neck caused him to gasp and when John came in, all John could see was you nuzzling up against Sherlock’s neck while Sherlock looked very panicked. The only message he had received was “ (Y/N) is in trouble. Come now. S.H. “. This wasn’t what he had pictured while he rushed here.  
John had been aware of some tension around Sherlock and you. But he had chosen not to mention it. He liked to see who would dare to make the first step. 

Sherlock had managed to pull loose, (Y/N) whimpering at the loss of contact. “John,” unfortunately Sherlock didn’t get far with his explanation of what was happening, when there was a sudden smack. Sherlock’s cheeks turned bright red as he felt your hand on his butt. You were a giggling mess on the couch. How could you possible resist after Sherlock had pulled away. He had slightly turned so he could speak to whoever was at the door. His ass had looked amazing in the jeans he was wearing. To be honest. His ass always looked amazing. But now, with your newfound courage, you had no problem in showing just how much you admired it. 

Sherlock’s panicked look returned when he felt you squeeze his buttcheek. He moved away, scolding you slightly before rushing towards John to discuss the problem. 

And after John had checked up on you, there was only one solution. Keep you hydrated and wait till the drugs wore out. Which was why John decided to leave the building as soon as he made sure you were okay. While he was more than amused to see you the way you were and have Sherlock be an uncomfortable mess, he wasn’t going to meddle with whatever the outcome of this adventure was. John however did notify Mycroft of the new found drugs in his brother’s apartment. 

It had taken four hours for you to settle down. And while John had received a couple of worried texts from Sherlock, nothing alarming had happened to your health. The moment John had left, you had demanded cuddles from Sherlock. Something intimate the two of you had never shared, but something you suddenly desperately needed. And while Sherlock pretended like he wasn’t enjoying it, he wasn’t pushing you away. Four hours on the couch with you in his arms wasn’t how he had expected his evening to turn out. There was a case bothering his mind, but every time your lips would find his cheek, his jawline, his neck, collarbone, he could only focus his attention on you. 

The color on your cheeks had reappeared, your heartbeat had slowed down and the drooping of your eyes indicated that the drug was slowly leaving your system. Right now you were sound asleep. Exhaustion had taken over and you were out cold. Sherlock was staring at you. Relief washing over him now that he knew for certain that everything was going to be okay. The scare of today and the huge amount of affection had him thinking. While he wasn’t the dating type, he wouldn’t mind having you next to him as he woke up, or went to sleep. He wouldn’t mind having your lips on his cheeks, his jawline, his neck.. without you being on drugs. Seeing you so peacefully asleep, Sherlock couldn’t help but to softly touch your cheek. While he had sworn to keep you safe after considering you a friend, it had only grown over the time he knew you. And right now he was determined to do whatever it took to protect you from harms way. 

If you’d look him in the eye tomorrow that is.


End file.
